


The Core of Human Nature

by HermioneSparta



Category: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-29
Updated: 2015-07-29
Packaged: 2018-04-11 23:39:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,346
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4456946
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HermioneSparta/pseuds/HermioneSparta
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Only their rituals, their conversations, made the cycle bearable.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Core of Human Nature

**Title:**  The Core of Human Nature

 **Author:**  HermioneSparta

 **Rating:**  M

 **Disclaimer:**  The characters and canon situations in the following story belong to Shigeru Miyamoto, Takashi Tezuka and Nintendo.

 **Summary:** Only their rituals, their conversations, made the cycle bearable.

_**Zelda** _

I have had many titles over the years, most of them the same. That is my role, you see. It is all of ours.

I consider this continuous cycle even as I stand in the white plane. Where I am, there is nothing…and there is everything.

This is the place where we are all born- and where we return upon the death of our host. It is the Core, a place of pure energy. In the end, isn't that what we all are?

The whiteness- of color which must be applied to something beyond human understanding- wavers. I feel my spirit shifting, taking on solid form. Eternity becomes but a moment as a world forms around me.

A perception, influenced by my presence but guided by another.

I look around, recognizing the clearing and trees within moments. Golden sunlight filters through high branches and dense leaves, coloring the bright grass and flowers.

An arm wraps around my waist, a firm hand resting on my hip. I lean into the strong chest.

Today, she appears as she was during our last incarnation. With her red eyes and silver hair, she is imposing. Her gauntlets are missing, her flesh tan against the pale white of my dress.

I can't help but laugh as I look down.

How well I know her. Early on, back when she called me "Your Grace" rather than "Your Majesty", she had dressed me in a white gown. Since that day, she has preferred me in white.

I don't ask why. There's no reason to. Here, in this place…it doesn't matter.

Her lips press against my neck and I shiver. Her love warms me, twining through me. It grounds me in our chosen reality, anchoring me  _here_  rather than the vast potential of the Core.

Here, there is no Time. There is no need to rush or seek words when we don't wish to. I am not called upon to maintain order within a chaotic stream.

Many times, I have been called the Princess of Destiny. The Sage of Time. The Wise Queen. Most do not realize the women within their records are but a single being.

"It's starting again," she says in her calm tone.

Ah, now I understand. Why she chose here, in this isolated place, rather than the riverbank.

It - the two of us - all began here.

Time. Destiny. Are they not the same? Creations beyond true understanding, but forces none the less.

Time is not linear, even if we interpret it as such. I have lived countless lives, never vying from my path- from my duties. It is not a choice.

I am one of Their children, as we all are. And for some reason, out of all of Their children…the four of us were Chosen.

The first time we were called, it was Fate. A mere chance. Four souls which had never interacted were thrown together, born from mystical forces they did not comprehend…and selected for roles beyond their understanding.

Mine was to lead, to be the beacon of hope and resistance. I was to be the symbol of the future and growth.

What began in a single lifetime has become our existence.

I am almost always the Princess, the Queen, the one who must defend and be defended. I am the human embodiment of Wisdom, of the legend of the Three Mothers.

I turn and hug her in return. Her scent is strong, stronger than it should be in this in-between world.

Soon…far sooner than any of us wished.

I tighten my arms.

"I love you."

She presses a kiss to the top of my head. "I love you too."

I can't help but wonder what the next life will bring. We will turn on him, and he on us.

That is simply how it must be. We've tried to change this, and failed.

He is always an adult by the time Link and I are born.

So is Impa.

Desperation seizes me and I hold her tighter still, praying with everything I am.

It doesn't hurt, not here, but…I remember. I remember the last time we Slept, the pain we endured.

The pain we inflicted upon one another.

I turn and see them standing there, just outside the clearing.

My eyes meet his, those beautiful discs of Carnelian.

He knows. He remembers.

Was it planned? Or was this some idea placed within his mind as we Slept?

I know he fears the truth of our evolution.

So do I.

_**Link** _

I watch him, a living black flame. He looks more like an ember than a flame, really, as he stands on the cliff's edge. I can feel the weight in my hand, and know the Sword is a shadow on my back.

Soon it will take full form, and the Marks will appear.

Our names rarely change, despite the evolution of our spirits. Our original roles- how we had been born that first time- haunt us. Where my sister is highborn, I am low.

The other two have more variation, which isn't really fair. Why must we be the constant ones, the Hero and the Damsel?

"Why does this continue?" I hear myself asking.

"Because conflict continues," he answers in a low, rough tone. He turns from the sunset, the ocean a sea of colors behind him.

It's funny how he prefers the sea. I suppose it is because he spends so much time- when "alive", that is- in the desert.

"But why us? Why can't we live regular lives? Why must we always fight and suffer?"

Why must we always hurt one another? I know he hears the question, probably thinking it himself.

We ask each other, all of us, these same questions every time. It has become our ritual.

None of us will ask Them.

It's another part of the ritual.

We're all much too scared of the truth They would tell us.

He sighs, the weight of human emotions and memories settling in him. It happens with him first. Like calls to like. Often we are Called and reborn due to power, and the greed it inspires.

Power, unfortunately, is his base. He is Vengeance and Honor, Mindless Wrath and Righteous Fury.

And to face him, as I did that one fateful time, I must have Courage. They think it is the courage to complete the tasks, to soak my hands in blood.

They are wrong.

It's the courage to face everything inside me, and choose my own path.

It is the courage to fight a friend.

We are cast in our roles, and while we would gladly leave them, our Sleeping selves recognize one another. We are pulled together as surely as we are thrown.

When we live on the Earth, rather than residing in the Core, we are Sleeping. We know nothing of what the world truly means, what it  _is_ …and what exists beyond it. We are like any other oblivious person, going about our daily lives. We are puppets within the Mothers' play, ignorant of our true being.

Well…except for Zelda. Time and Wisdom tend to make her Sleep a miserable one.

And…there was those few centuries he spent locked between realms, living and Sleeping for far longer than he was meant to.

I hate this. I hate watching the knowledge creep into their eyes, I hate how it shapes their pure, ethereal beings into human form.

People think beyond life, there is no anger. No hate, no pain.

They're wrong. We feel just as they do, just as we do when "alive". The difference is that we understand what they do not. Anyone who is "not alive" and exists in the Void, in the Core, is not bound by the rules of human existence.

I wish it could remain that way. Don't we deserve a rest? Don't we deserve to hand our titles and Marks to others?

If we must incarnate once more…why can't we simply  _live_? Why must we always fight?

_**Ganondorf** _

I pat his shoulder and walk from the cliff. The earth changes under me with each step, becoming softer and more colorful. Here, in this reality we create, there is no such thing as distance.

I see them as I walk through the trees, cradled within one another's arms. I've encountered many spirits, many beings since my "creation"…and rarely have I seen two as connected as them.

I think they were one spirit at some point.

It's the best theory I've had to date, if I do say so myself.

Link follows me, as he always does. He's the "youngest" of us, and always looks for guidance when we start taking form.

My eyes meet hers. I watch as they turn from white to grey, and then take on an emerald tinge. Here, in this place where we are not puppets to the world, I can appreciate the beautiful spirit shining from those eyes. She's a friend to me, just as we all are to one another.

How can we not be, after all these eons? Our incarnations are nothing compared to the timeless freedom of the Core.

It hurts to know what I've done to a friend, to a sister. The four of us, we may despise the roles we play…but we've made peace with fighting one another. We know it will happen, and we accept it.

Even Impa, in her own way, has come to accept that she can't stop it.

And yet, there is a difference between honorable- if misguided- combat and the agony I inflicted upon her.

Right now, as we become heavier and our spirits shift to take control of a living host, there is guilt. When we are formless, weightless…when we are pure energy, there is no guilt, no pain, no true memory. We simply  _are_.

But now, there is. And I see it in those eyes, even as she smiles.

"What is destiny?" she asks, pulling away from Impa. "What is fate?"

"What is free will?" I ask in return, moving closer. I smile at Impa, which she returns with a nod.

And then I hug Zelda.

_**Impa** _

The questions are rhetoric, and yet…they aren't. So many times we have asked them of ourselves, of one another.

"Destiny is what we make of our Fate," I tell them. I hear Link laugh. "Our Fate means we continue this hideous cycle of anger and war. Our Destiny is the choices we make along the way. To love, to live, to hate.

"For whatever reason, we've been Chosen to represent human nature." I look between the three of them, focusing on Ganondorf first.

"How similar we are, brother. You, representing the misunderstood outcasts, the ones with natural talents no one understands. The Gerudo, the magicians…it makes no difference.

"But so too do you represent the darkness. The anger, the hate, the pain…the ignorance and damage caused by it. You are the face of all this and more.

"And yet, isn't there another side of darkness? It is the time of rest, of exploration and transformation. This is where our paths cross. Dusk and dawn rest between the day and night. You are the outcasts, where I am the betrayed. Pain, fear, anger and sorrow go hand-in-hand, no?"

I slide my gaze to Link as Ganondorf nods, mumbling to himself. "A hero's journey is echoed in every society, in every belief system. It is the discovery of self, as much as the ending purpose. You must be the face of the poor and disregarded workers. And yet, like the hero they proclaim you to be, even those you fight for do not understand you.

"A hero has no true definition, because they are an idol. They are shaped by those who bestow the very title of Hero upon them. The same could be said for a Queen," I add as I turn my focus back to Zelda.

"It is an understanding leader who allows the people guide their decisions." I run a hand through her hair, remembering all the lives we've shared and the many times to come.

She kisses my hand before smiling. There are no more words to be said as she reaches out to ruffle Link's hair, her hand easily evading his swat. Her fingers brush along Ganondorf's cheek, chasing away the Truth.

And once more, the cycle begins anew as Link throws the first handful of leaves. Our solemn knowledge drifts away, the coming reality made bearable by our freedom.

For now, we could be four souls enjoying the love of family, the joy of play. There were no titles to weigh our minds, no duties to pull at our hearts. We need not even acknowledge Them, though Their presence was never too far from our thoughts.

And for just a moment in this Timeless place...we didn't have to care. Because here, now, in this Core we shaped by our desires, Their wishes did not matter.

In this small window of eternity, we are the masters of our Fate, the weavers of our Destiny.

It won't last forever, as much as we want it to. But for a little while, this is enough. Because, even for that little while, we can be  _just_  us.

In it's own way, the way we chase one another like children makes it all one big game.

And if the Cycle is a game, we can pretend our lives are one giant argument.

Which, as sad as it is to admit, the reason we often are Called to incarnate once more.

A simple…little…argument.

It is, after all, the core of human nature to cause conflict.

It is the core of  _our_  natures to show everyone that peace is far more rewarding.

Too bad they never remember.


End file.
